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Sunshine of late afternoon-- On the glass tray a glass pitcher, the tumbler turned down, by which a key is lying--And the immaculate white bed
William Carlos Williams
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William Carlos Williams
Age: 79 †
Born: 1883
Born: September 17
Died: 1963
Died: March 4
Autobiographer
Literary Critic
Physician
Physician Writer
Poet
Writer
Turned
Trays
Keys
Immaculate
Late
Pitcher
Lying
Afternoon
White
Sunshine
Glass
Glasses
Tumbler
Bed
Tray
More quotes by William Carlos Williams
beauty’ is related not to ‘loveliness’ but to a state in which reality plays a part.
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For what we cannot accomplish, what is denied to love, what we have lost in the anticipation a descent follows, endless and indestructible.
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Being an art form, verse cannot be free in the sense of having no limitations or guiding principle.
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The weight of love Has buoyed me up Till my head Knocks against the sky.
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For the beginning is assuredly the end- since we know nothing, pure and simple, beyond our own complexities.
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That which is possible is inevitable.
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Shoes twisted into incredible lilies.
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Most of the beauties of travel are due to the strange hours we keep to see them
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Compose. (No ideas but in things) Invent! Saxifrage is my flower that splits the rocks.
William Carlos Williams
To refine, to clarify, to intensify that eternal moment in which we alone live there is but a single force the imagination.
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The instant trivial as it is is all we have unless-unless things the imagination feeds upon, the scent of the rose, startle us anew.
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No opinion can be trusted even the facts may be nothing but a printer's error.
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THE THOUGHTFUL LOVER Deny yourself all half things. Have it or leave it. But it will keep—or it is not worth the having. Never start anything you can't finish— However do not lose faith because you are starved! She loves you she says. Believe it —tomorrow. But today the particulars of poetry that difficult art require your whole attention.
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A new world is only a new mind.
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I think these days when there is so little to believe in——when the old loyalties——God, country, and the hope of Heaven——aren't very real, we are more dependent than we should be on our friends. The only thing left to believe in——someone who seems beautiful.
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It was the love of love, the love of swallows up all else, a grateful love, a love of natural, of people, of animals, a love ingengering gentleness and goodness that moved meand that I saw in you
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Sure love is cruel and selfish and totally obtuse-- at least, blinded by the light, young love is.
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Hell take curtains! Go with some show of inconvenience sit openly - to the weather as to grief. Or do you think you can shut your grief in?
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Sorrow is my own yard where the new grass flames as it has flamed often before but not with the cold fire that closes round me this year.
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Your thighs are appletrees whose blossoms touch the sky. Your knees are a southern breeze.
William Carlos Williams